Page 12 of His Fantasy Girl

She nodded.

“I’ll give you a lift.” He glanced around at their surroundings. “This place gives me the creeps.”

She didn’t want to go with him. She wasn’t ready for the confrontation right now. Tired from the long shift, she wanted to go home. But Logan didn’t wait for an answer, just jerked his head in the direction of the car park at the back of the building. For a second she contemplated making a mad dash in the opposite direction, but that would be pathetic, so she hitched her handbag onto her shoulder and followed him. His ass in black leather was as impressive as it had been in faded denim, but really she shouldn’t be thinking like this. She was sure Jack had a great ass as well. Funny that she’d never really noticed it in the ten years since they’d met. She made a mental note to check it out next time she saw him.

Logan stopped beside a sleek black Ferrari. Wow. It suited him perfectly—long and lean and dark and no doubt a very fast mover. He opened the door, and she took a deep breath and climbed in. Inside it smelled of expensive leather and spicy cologne and a musky, male scent she knew was all Logan McCabe. Just the smell of him sent tingles to her belly. She was better than this.

He got in beside her, and suddenly all the oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the car and she couldn’t breathe. She swallowed, forced air into her lungs, and concentrated on slow, steady breaths. She waited for him to ask where she was going, but he started the car without speaking. The engine positively purred as he drove out of the car park and into traffic. It was slowing down now, after nine, and most people in this part of the city were already home. He drove fast but within the limit. She had no clue where they were going, but couldn’t bring herself to break the silence. Finally, he spoke.

“So you’re a cop, Sergeant Parker.”

“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate; she didn’t have to justify what she was to him.

She’d been on the force for nearly ten years, had learned how to deal with the most difficult of characters and keep her cool. How did this man get to her? Could it be because none of those others had had their hands in her panties? None of them had made her come. Oh God, would she ever forget the feel of those long fingers, pushing inside her. She eyed up his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. They were beautiful hands, with olive skin and long fingers, short nails. The tail end of a tattoo trailed over the back of one, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

“You’re very quiet. I thought you’d be interrogating me by now.”

“Interrogating you about what?”

He shrugged. “Tell me one thing. Are you trying to set me up?”

She’d been gazing out of the window at the passing buildings, now she swung her head around to face him. “Of course not. Anyway, you came to see me first.”

“Yes. So I did. I have no clue why, but I actually believe you. So…?”

“So?”

“Yesterday, you said we needed to talk.”

They did, but right now she didn’t think she could make much sense. Would he hate her after she told him? Part of her knew she should have made more of an effort to tell him back when she had first found out she was pregnant. But he had been in prison. How could she? And maybe he’d want nothing to do with them. They’d had unprotected sex that night, which was majorly stupid, but she’d been drunk for the first time in her life, and he’d been the most exciting thing she had ever seen. She’d totally lost her head. But perhaps he’d made a habit of it and had left a trail of illegitimate children all across London.

“I have to admit, cop or not, I like the way you…talk.” Logan interrupted her less than happy thoughts. “Yesterday I liked it very much. Until we were interrupted. So I thought we could go somewhere where we could ‘talk’ without the risk of being disturbed.”

“Where are we going?” She glanced out of the window; they’d been driving along the embankment, the lights glinting on the dark water of the Thames, but now they turned off and headed north.

“My place.”

That was a bad idea. A really bad idea. “I don’t think so. I thought you were taking me home.”

“Sorry, I have to go feed my dog.” She eyed him suspiciously, and he cast her an innocent look. “What? You don’t believe a man like me would have a dog?”

She didn’t know what to believe. But she was suddenly intensely curious to see where he lived, to know more about this man. Because she knew so very little, and inadvertently he’d played a huge part in her life. Would maybe play an even bigger part in the years to come. She should know more about him. It was a responsibility. She’d done the basic amount of research on him, gone through the files to check that she wasn’t introducing some hard-core criminal into Jenny’s life. But he’d been clean since that one youthful indiscretion. In her experience people went two ways after a time in prison. Either they somehow turned themselves around, or they got worse. Logan must have made the decision to keep out of trouble, though he obviously came from a wealthy background, which would have helped. His father had owned the nightclub where they’d first met.

“How did you know where to find me?” she asked. She was pretty sure he hadn’t known she was a police officer yesterday.

“My father. He was convinced he’d seen you around somewhere—he has an extremely suspicious nature. He asked around, and in the end one of the bouncers said he recognized you from a recent brush with the law. Apparently you took down his particulars.”

“Nice company you keep.”

“Actually, he’s an okay guy, just has a hot temper and a crap tolerance for alcohol.”

They were driving through an upmarket residential area now, wide streets with Georgian houses set back from the road by large gardens. They were close to Hampstead Heath, one of her favorite parts of London. It wasn’t the sort of area she would have expected him to live—though again, what did she really know of him?

He turned off the road and pulled up in front of a set of metal gates. After he pressed a button on the dashboard, they opened and he drove through, along a curved drive that led to the front of a beautiful Georgian mansion. She knew a little about property prices around here, and this had to be worth millions.

“You live here?”

“Yeah. I moved here a few months ago. I lived in an apartment before that, in the city center, but then I sort of inherited the dog and…” He shrugged. “This place backs onto the Heath. It’s perfect.”

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